Existence of the Wolverine
by Crimson-Pheonix
Summary: What happened in the past, that was forgotten in the future. A life story, from the begining, of Wolverine.
1. Dancing with Wolverines

Disclaimer: Most of the characters you see here are NOT mine. They belong to MARVEL comics. Some, very few, are my own creation if any. Do not sue me I only want to make people enjoy the story! Thanks ^^!  
  
This is also how I see Logan aka Wolverine's past. NOTHING may be accurate, but this is how I see everything.   
  
Chapter 1  
  
A young boy, about the age of 12, ran across the iced plains of a Canadian home. The boy seemed rugged, black hair, oddly shaped to ear like points on each side of his head. The boy was chasing a dog, laughing. "Come back here! Logan come back here!" The boy called after the dog, until suddenly he slipped on ice and slid. He rammed into a tree, collapsing to the ground.  
  
The father was standing near by, rushed over to aid his son, calling for his wife as the child was lifted into his arms. Quickly he was brought into the house. They were frantic. The father of the boy hastily phoned the doctor. "Wake up, my child please.." The mother soon cradled the boy in her arms, sobbing as the doctor arrived to see the boy's condition. The parents were told to leave the room, the doctor spoke first before he entered the boy's room.  
  
The doctor was an old looking man, rather on the chubby side. Glasses were worn and a white jacket upon black shirt and tan pants. In his hand was a case with equipment such as bandages, medic supplies and so on. As the doctor examined him, he found nothing quite wrong. Not a physical wound or scrape had appeared. But apparently, the boy had been bleeding, or something as there was blood on the pillow. The doctor frowned and called the parents in.   
  
The boy began to wake up. As soon as the boy's eyes opened, parents huddled around, astonished as the hit seemed to be traumatic. The doctor stared in horror before taking out a small knife, taking the boys arm. The parents thought the man to be mad until they saw what happened. The boy cringed, pulling back his arm to watch the blood seep from the wound and yet in a matter of seconds, the wound healed.  
  
"He's a mutant!" The doctor cried. The woman screamed and the father stared. In anger of having his son known as a freak, he grabbed the boy, blanket and all and threw him out of the house. The boy clinged to his father's arm before he was shoved off. "You are no son of mine, you…Animal!" The door was then slammed as the boy fell to the ground. He then wandered, shivering in the snow.  
  
Days later, the boy wrapped up in the brown blanket, shivered wildly as he traveled up the mountains. He froze as he heard a growl sound, glancing over to the side. His narrowed, growling back. The boy had learn to fend for himself and he also learned to use his abilities. His hand gripped upon the blanket, crying out as three bone claws were drawn. The sheer pain was murderous as he fell to the ground, curling up tight.  
  
A creature moved towards him, sniffing the child. He wasn't afraid to defend himself, even in pain. The eyes of the creature met with the boy, who had now withdrawn the claws, staring deep into his dark eyes. The animal tugged upon the blanket, picking the boy to his feet. He stumbled but withstood, following the animal up to a cave, where he beholds another large creature with a few young.   
  
The boy closed his eyes, then reopened as he crawled inside. The animals huddled around the boy, as the winter outside the entrance continued to blow hard. He couldn't sleep. What were these animals? He had never seen anything like them before, but apparently, they trusted him and deep down inside, he trusted them.  
  
Wolverine.  
  
What was he to become now? Days, months and years as he grew along side of these creatures. These devil like beasts. Each taking a turn to hunt. To kill. He learned to endure pain, as his claws were drawn when it was his turn to kill. They seemed to be the family he never had. A wild pack of animals, family? The boy soon forgot his true family, the ones who disowned him for being a mutant. A freak. His name never had any more meaning as hardly a word was ever said. Nothing more than a grunt and growl.  
  
As the boy wrestled with a sister and brother, he sat up, sniffing the air. His senses were heightened as he adapted to the surroundings. He was beginning to be an animal. A beast. To the father, he nodded, taking off. Amongst the trees he hid, hearing another yell or call like cry from a girl. Drums were beating. He smelled fire. Silent as possible, he watched the group of people until someone shouted and pointed his direction.  
  
He didn't run. He wasn't afraid. He was supposed to be feared. He growled like a wild animal, the beast with in. Baring his teeth and his extended bone-like claws. The woman he had been watching, was indeed very beautiful. She had long flowing black hair, perfect body, yet she wasn't exactly a woman. A little younger than he was maybe. He heard the one man call her Silver Fox. She approached him, touching his cheek. He turned his head as he felt her hand, drawing in his claws. She smiled, and held his hand up announcing to the tribe one word.   
  
"Carcajou!"  
  
The boy glanced to the forest before the girl pulled him to her, showing him how to dance. These people were Native Americans. He couldn't remember from where he heard them, but he knew what they were. Carcajou. What was this name. As soon as the dance has settled and everyone was sleeping, he moved to her tent, nudging Silver Fox.  
  
"What is it, Carcajou?" Her voice was soft like velvet, beautiful in every word.  
  
"What..does..Carcajou mean?" His voice was deep, a somewhat soft husky sound. He still had the boyish like look, yet the appearance had changed in him slight. He seemed slightly more tamed, yet still wild like an animal with anger.   
  
She giggled and sat up to look into his dark eyes. "Carcajou means…Wolverine."   
  
He stared into her eyes before cracking a small smile upon his lips. Now 15, he had a name. His name was Wolverine. He was about to state something when she pressed her fingers against his lips, then sealed them with a kiss. His eyes stared at hers as she progressed, parting slowly. They locked arms around each other as the boy fell asleep. She held him close, stroking his hair before her eyes moved down to his hands. She ran her fingers where his claws would pop out, smiling sadly. "Poor Wolverine.."  
  
"Wolverine!" A girl called out as she stood upon a cliff. The boy was chasing after a kill for food and he told her to wait. She sighed, growing a bit impatient as the boy considered toying was more fun before killing. Finally when it was done, She jumped down, landing on all fours as she ran after him. She was swift as a fox, which was why the Blackfoot tribe dubbed her Silver Fox. "Do you always have to do that?"  
  
It had been a year now.   
  
He gave a small wink as he lunged the animal over his shoulders, intending to haul it off. "Are you sure you can carry that?" She asked, slightly marveled at his strength. He was the strongest in their tribe being there for only a year. In a way, they were to be engaged and they didn't mind. They had grown a strong bond between each other over the year…Silver Fox didn't know why, but there was something about this boy. Something…different than from other people.  
  
As they journeyed back to the tribe. Wolverine stopped, sniffing the air. Silver Fox paused raising an eyebrow. "Caught a cold?" He gave her a small look, glancing around to the trees. "Something's not right…The..tribe!" He dashed off immediately followed by Silver Fox. They both stopped, coming upon the destruction of the whole tribe.   
  
"What--" Silver Fox was caught off by a scream as hands were wrapped around her neck. Wolverine glared over at the large man holding his beloved. "Let her go!" He yelled out to the large man, hearing her painful screams. The man tossed her aside as he ripped a tree branch from the ground, slamming it into Wolverine. He fell to the ground, eyes blurry as he watched his love being torn from her clothes. Her screams soon died out afterwards as he dripped into unconsciousness. 


	2. Blood & Claws

Disclaimer: Most of the characters you see here are NOT mine. They belong to MARVEL comics. Some, very few, are my own creation if any. Do not sue me I only want to make people enjoy the story! Thanks ^^!  
  
This is also how I see Logan aka Wolverine's past. NOTHING may be accurate, but this is how I see everything.   
  
Chapter 2  
  
1937 - Spain  
  
Years had past since memories of his lost love was brought about. The man, no longer a boy, but still young and in need of experience. Yet he cocked a gun, firing at some armed men. "Your not a bad shooter, kid." A short man had commented. His partner along with a Japanese woman. He was assigned to assist in the Canadian Government for this operation but suddenly they drew out, failing to warn them.   
  
These two people were like them. He was fast and she, could was powerful in martial arts. She also was training him in the same order as well, but he wasn't even near her talent. "So shall we get acquainted better, eh?" The man puffed on a cigar. The Wolverine made a face, scooting away from him as he fired at a few more men.  
  
The man laughed, holding his hand out. " 'Name's Eugene Milton Judd, but some of my pals call me Puck." The Wolverine glanced at his hand then back to his work in shooting down some other targets. He wanted it over with but the scent of fear and blood…seemed rather familiar. "Sooo what's yer name, kid?" Puck still pestered the boy, who was seemingly getting aggravated. "Look old man, I'm not fond with formalities."   
  
Then a woman's voice was heard. She laughed softly, folding her arms under her well proportioned breasts. "Aren't you the rude one. You never told us your name, boy." The boy hesitated for a moment, knowing that responding with Wolverine would give people ideas. "…Patch." The words came out calmly. Yuriko, the Japanese woman gave a small smile to the boy. "Well, was that so hard now? I think we should go. The both men nodded, splitting off after Yuriko.  
  
At a small hide out not to far, Puck was amusing himself by getting Patch stoned and sick to his stomach. "C'mon kid take another!" The short, rough guy nudged the Wolverine as he shoved another drink in front of him. The kid was in his twenties as least, and drinking needed to be broken in. Yuriko watched disapprovingly as the boy looked very ill. The results later was Wolverine vomiting almost everything he ate within the last 24 hours.   
  
"He'll learn." Puck snickered as he puffed at the cigar, finding this all amusing. Yuriko rolled her eyes as she placed a cold rag upon the boy's forehead. The Wolverine seemed to be out cold at the moment.   
  
That next day they didn't get word, so they mostly spent the day inside, especially Patch and Yuriko. The Japanese woman was teaching the Wolverine a few words in her native tongue. "Domo arigato gozaimasu. It means thank you very much." Patch sat up on the bed, repeating the words until he said it right. The woman was like a caring mother to him. She taught him about various weapons, martial arts, and how to speak Japanese. He got a kick out of it and was pretty darn good at learning it.  
  
When Patch caught sight of Puck, he decided to try some Japanese on the short old man. "Oi. Puck-baabaa. Oushi wa baka desu ne." Yuriko couldn't help but snicker at the way he referred to him. First he stated that he was an old geezer then called him a rather stupid person. He was pretty much a fast learner in the Japanese dialect.  
  
As the years progressed, the Canadian Government had wired the small group to separate after one final mission.  
  
Gun fire blasted through the air in various directions from the Spanish Army. Puck, Patch and Yuriko fired with all the weapons they had until a stray bullet hit Yuriko. She screamed, backing up from the firing. Puck glanced back to her before shooting a few more bullets into the humans. As he ran to help her, a ray of machine gun bullets were fired into his back.   
  
"NO!" Patch yelled as his bone claws extended, he roared, diving towards the men with a fiery rage in his eyes. The bullets that hit seemed to cause no effect as he ripped each human, limb by limb until there was nothing left. He turned to look at Puck and Yuriko, staring as they appeared motionless. "Guys..c'mon." He moved over to them, retracting his claws. "Wake up.." He nudged Puck and Yuriko.  
  
Yuriko opened her eyes slowly, glancing up towards Patch with a small smile. "Hey..Sorry. I guess.." She paused, wincing from the pain. "..we..screwed up. Run, Patch. Escape while you can." With those last words, she fell unconscious.   
  
Patch watched them for a while, with his head bowed. "I'll never forget you." 


End file.
